User blog:Drix153/Misgivings of a Cleric Part II
Rosaline Haines was no stranger to bad weather, but what she and her griffin flew through now was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. A fierce storm raged around them, buffeting the two with heavy winds and pounding rain. It was as though two great spirits were fighting in the clouds high above, their strikes clashing together to create the thunder that reverberated throughout the valley, rattling both rider and mount to their very cores. Lightning flared into existence ahead of them. Skelkesh, the griffin Rosaline rode, was forced to make a sharp bank to avoid it. She drew left, and then plunged downward at a steep angle. Her sudden movements jolted Rosaline, who threw her arms around the griffin's neck in order to avoid being thrown off herself. She could only hope the knots she'd tied would prevent her supplies from being lost to the empty space around them. Forget the supplies, concentrate on staying alive, she screamed inside her head. They're no use to you dead! Skelkesh quickly levelled out and adjusted the direction she flew in. She, like Rosaline, had just as much a cause to reach the Forinthry Ossuary. It had been several months now since her last return, enough time for her to realize just how much she truly missed being with her young grifflets. No, not young anymore, she corrected herself. They would now be grown now, adult griffs. Skelkesh's heart ached with guilt. How could she have left them there in the first place? She had been promised they would be taken care of them, protected. Now, she would be there to protect them; their mother, just as it should be. Rosaline eased back in her saddle, her body and mind both equally exhausted. After what felt like hours the two finally outrid the storm. It's nothing short of a miracle, she concluded, in spite of the fact that she didn't believe in those types of things. When she was younger, perhaps, she had fallen for that mentality. But now... there was no plan, no purpose, no fate. Gods didn't exist in the sky, they existed like any other person; she'd seen to that during her short time in Lumbridge. Anyone who said otherwise was just fooling themselves... and yet why would she be here if she didn't believe in any of it? Rosaline shut her eyes and exhaled... "Like hell I am!" Rosaline was poised with her arms crossed, her voice defiant. Alorah stood across from her, her lips pursed. "You expect me to just leave him? Just—just walk away so I can go play detective for you because you had a 'vision?'" "You know that's not true." Rosaline snorted, not buying any of it. "Lest you forget it was I who led you to my father, and that was only because of His influence." Alorah reprimanded. "I could have found him on my own. In fact, I was just on my way here when you showed up with your foolish prattle and your 'one true god.'" She turned her back on her friend. "I'm not leaving him. Period." Rosaline heard Alorah sigh, no doubt frustrated. Yet she persisted. "I know how you must feel, but this is important. Trouble is brewing within those temple walls. I need you to do this, Rosaline. If not for me, then at least do it for Him." Just as Rosaline was about to tell Alorah off for the umpteenth, she felt something come over her; a kind of soft pressure, not unlike a sheet of silk. She'd felt something like this before, she recalled vaguely, always in the presence of the halfbreed. It asked her to let go, to accept it and let it in... Rosaline reacted defensively. She fought off the alien sensation with a fierce determination. She didn't want it, didn't like it. The sensation retreated hastily, slipping off her as though a wind had come through and blown it away. By the time it was entirely gone Rosaline felt dizzy and drained. "Rosaline?" Alorah asked, concern in her voice. "Are you alright?" She saw her step forward, reaching for her shoulder. Rosaline shook away her fatigue for the moment, shrugging out from under Alorah's hand. "It's nothing. I'm just—" Rosaline struggled to rid herself of the aftereffects of whatever it was that assaulted her mind. "I can't leave him like this, Alorah. What if something were to happen to him while I was away? You know of those that threaten him. They can't have him. I won't let them." "Rosaline," Alorah began, her voice soft and sincere, "I swear I won't let anything happen to Ptolemy while you're away. We will leave the city as soon as we can. I'll be careful and will watch for them should any try to follow us. But I can't guarantee that whatever's happening at the Forinthry Ossuary doesn't somehow involve him." Rosaline said nothing, so she pressed on. "I know Al Kharid. We will be safe there. You must do as I ask, for his safety and ours." She had promised, like she always did... ''Rosaline was roused from her daze when her mount began rocking her body side-to-side. Alert, she leaned forward and yelled over the wind so the griffin could hear. "What is it?" Skelkesh responded by dipping her left wing. Through the wind a faint clicking could be heard. Rosaline knew what it meant and gave her the order to descend. ''We're here. Ever since her throat had been torn out by a former partner, Skelkesh had to rely on other means of communcation. Luckily, she learned that she could still get her point across through the use of physical gestures and noises. Rosaline had grasped it quickly and the two could easily talk with one as though the beast had no disability at all. Skelkesh indicated that the Forinthry Ossuary lay on their left side now as they dived through a cloud bank. By using the moon's location in the night sky Rosaline judged that they still had a couple of hours to go before midnight arrived. She privately entertained the thought of barging uninvited into Sacheverell's bedchamber, loudly announcing her return. It would be a sure-fire way of getting his attention, but not very subtle. She had to be careful. If Alorah was right... As they emerged from the cover of the clouds, Rosaline felt something tickle the back of her neck. She didn't think nothing of it at first, but when the sensation only grew stronger she became perturbed. Brushing it off, Rosaline forced herself to concentrate on the flight. They were drawing closer to the temple and were just around the same height as the aerie carved in the cliff face high above it, where torches had been lit and shone brightly, illuminating the cliff face for them and the silhouettes of those awaiting their arrival. Awaiting our... ''Rosaline drew breath to warn Skelkesh just as the first of the archers' arrows struck her in the side. She gasped from the impact, her grip on the reins slipping as another struck her shoulder. Meanwhile, Skelkesh cried out silently as several arrows embedded themselves in her flanks and wings. She twisted and turning, pulling back to flee, but in doing so exposed herself even more. Arrows embedded themselves in her stomach and throat. Both wounded and taken by surprise, mount and rider started to plummet. Rosaline had little time to react. She could only watch as the ground rose up to meet them. Just before they struck the ground, Rosaline twisted in her saddle and braced for impact. She had no control over Skelkesh and could only hope that the griffin wouldn't crush her upon landing. They hit the ground, hard. The force of their collision nearly threw Rosaline from her saddle, but either through sheer luck or misfortune she was able to stay on. She knew immediately that one of her legs was pinned beneath Skelkesh, and when she made to extract herself, Rosaline discovered her left arm was unresponsive. ''Broken, ''she thought grimly. But at least she was still alive; an ordinary person would have died on impact. After checking to make sure nothing else was broken, she shifted her attention to Skelkesh. The griffin was still alive but terribly injured. Even if she received medical attention Rosaline wasn't sure if Skelkesh would pull through... A sound like thunder alerted Rosaline to the approaching riders. ''No doubt they come to see whether or not we survived. She figured they would reach them in a matter of minutes. Trying to flee would only result in her being ridden down while staying meant she risked capture or worse. Rosaline fixed her eyes on Skelkesh and watched as the griffin drew one labored breath after another, her glossy eyes fixated on something up above them. "Sir, we found them." A man on horseback rode up to stand just outside the Forintrhy Ossuary's main entrance. He gave his commanding officer a salute and awaited his response. "Is that right?" The officer was a short man, rumored to be of dwarf blood, and had a fiery temper. He was well-regarded by his unit despite the fact that most were too afraid to look him directly in the eyes. "Give me the report." "Of course, sir." The soldier dismounted and indicated the other riders behind him. One of them had something draped over the back of their horse. "We rode to where we believed the griffin and its rider landed. We found the beast alive and slew it. The rider was already dead by the time we arrived." "A woman?" The soldier confirmed the officer's suspicion with a nod. "Excellent. Take the body inside. We'll fetch the beast's remains in the morning. Well done, lads. He will be most pleased with your performance tonight." It wasn't often the officer congratulated his troops. They welcomed the praise and quickly left to follow his orders. In their haste, they failed to notice Rosaline subtly studying their numbers, acting the part of a corpse as best as her undead body could. Once the troops disposed of her in the lower levels of the temple, Rosaline broke the arrow shafts protuding from her side and shoulder. She then mended her broken arm as best she could. Tearing off a piece of tapestry, she used it to make a sling and put it around her arm. Her work was undisturbed. Afterwards, she used her knowledge of the temple's layout to carefully navigate her way through to Sacheverell's office. Rosaline refused to believe that the half-icyene had anything to do with her attempted assassination. Something was going on here. Rosaline was determined to find out what. The hallways were relatively quiet at this hour of the night. She had to slip into the shadows and a crevice every now and then to avoid a passing shadow, but other than that Rosaline saw little else. This led her to believe that only a few knew of her presence here. They'd taken action against her, but how did they know she was coming at all? Were they seen from the walls? Perhaps... but why? Rosaline could not make heads or tails of the situation. Eventually, though, she came upon his room. She tried the handle and was not surprised to find it locked. Without a word Rosaline kicked it with all her strength. It gave way beneath her and slammed inward. Sacheverell heard a loud noise. He turned his head, a feat which required most of his strength, and narrowed his eyes. I don't believe it. He saw Rosaline run into his room and start barricading the doorway with whatever she could find. He watched her, his vision bleary, unable to find his voice. Was he hallucinating yet again? No, this is real. He let his head sink back down onto his pillow, searching for whatever strength he had left in his withered body. "Gods... Sacheverell," Rosaline choked, horrified by the sight of her friend laying before her. "What happened to you?" "Poisoned." He was surprised to find he still had his voice, even though it was hoarse and barely recognizable as his own. "Alaric." "Alaric? That slimeball did this to you?" Rosaline leaned in close and examined him. He could see his own wasted visage reflected in her eyes. "After you left," Sacheverell began but stopped when he was seized by a coughing fit. He had to wait until it passed. "Slipped into my private stores. Knew I wouldn't notice." "Is there anything I can do?" "Too late. Too late..." He swallowed to try and ease his raw throat, to no avail. "My body is too weak. The poison is the only thing sustaining me now." Rosaline knitted her brows. "I'm sorry. I would have come sooner, but I found him, Sacheverell. He's alive." Sacheverell wasn't surprised. How many times has it been now? If only he had as many chances as him... "You and Ptolemos were always too stubborn for your own good." She smiled at his joke, it lasting for only a second. He fell into another coughing fit. After it passed Sacheverell grew aware of the banging at his door. They are coming. "You don't have much time," he pointed out. She only nodded in response. "You know what you must do?" She nodded again, although this time it was with less resolve. "You didn't deserve this, Sacheverell." At this he let out a ragged chuckle. "For most of my life I have struggled, always fighting against someone or something. I never knew peace, and only caught small glimpses of what it might be like for one such as myself. I was too prideful, too caught up in my quest for vengeance that I failed to realize the thing I wanted most from this life had already been taken from me." Sacheverell paused. "And she has been waiting for me all this time as I continued to fight for a cause that had died so very long ago." Rosaline hadn't expected this from the half-icyene. "Don't waste what time you have left going after a false hope," he urged. "Promise me, Helisende!" His eyes had taken on a feverish glint. Rosaline realized that he must be hallucinating. She didn't know this Helisende, but perhaps it would be better if she played the part. It was the least she could do... for him. "I promise, Sacheverell." "Good, good..." Her answer seemed to ease his worries. Sacheverell sank back onto his bed and closed his eyes. His breath came easier now. "I'm so sorry I haven't come to visit, my dear. I've been so tired lately..." When the soldier finally broke through the barricaded door, they found Rosaline standing over Sacheverell's corpse. Her good arm was raised in an act of surrender, the pillow she had used to smother him still held in it. After surrendering to the soldiers, Rosaline was once again taken to the lower levels of the temple. They bound and shackled her this time, putting her in one of the cells once used by the order to house prisoners of war. A pair of sentries were posted nearby, no doubt there to watch over her and make sure she didn't escape. Several hours passed, during which Rosaline tried goading, bribing, and even begging for her release. Neither of the two men fell for it. She was just beginning to consider whether she should try playing dead again when the sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention. "I don't believe it," a voice spoke, thick with an Eastern accent. "It really is you, isn't it?" Rosaline knew that voice. Alaric, she thought, gritting her teeth. Alaric, who after dismissing the two sentries, stepped into view, grinning. He was as repulsive as the last time she saw him. "So you were the one who murdered poor Sacheverell while he slept." "By the time I found him," Rosaline countered, her voice taut with anger, "he was already dead—by your hand, no less!" Alaric looked amused. "An interesting accusation," he said, tugging his pointed beard, eyeing Rosaline with sudden interest. "How long as it been since you left us? In case you haven't noticed, Rosaline, you've fallen out of favor with the very order you founded. The whole temple is in an uproar over Sacheverell's death. It's an understandable reaction; as you can tell he was well-liked by all of us. I suspect that the people will demand your execution by early morning, if not sooner." Alaric allowed his words to sink in. Rosaline, not wanting to give him the pleasure of a response, chose to remain silent. "It's a little too late for the silent treatment, don't you think?" More silence. "So be it. Honestly, I'd hoped for more of a show from our great leader of yore." Before he could leave, Rosaline blurted out, "Why?" "Why?" Alaric fixed his gaze on hers, looking as though he didn't understand the question. "Why do any of us do what we do?" "That doesn't answer my question," Rosaline pointed out. Alaric ignored her and continued, his voice swelling as he spoke. "What was it that possessed you to return, Rosaline? Was it guilt? A sense of duty, perhaps?" He allowed her time for the words to sink in. "I suggest you try to make peace with whatever demons you have left with what time you have left. Come morning, you'll find none. That I can promise." More time passed and still Rosaline struggled to find a way out of her predicament. She wasn't going to let Alaric, of all people, be the one to end her life. She aimed to go out on her terms, not his. But try as she might, Rosaline could find no viable method to free herself from the shackles. As dawn drew near, her thoughts strayed elsewhere. What would happen if she didn't escape? Would dying twice have an effect on what came next? Would Alorah keep him safe as she had promised? Just like the events that led up to her first death, Rosaline felt despair creep in as the finality of her situation dawned on her. Footsteps. They were finally coming for her. Rosaline drew up to her full height and waited. Shackles or not, she wasn't going down without a fight. The footsteps stopped outside the door leading into her cell. She waited, straining her ears. She heard the sentries speaking to someone, but their voices were too muffled for her to discern what was being said. The voices soon escalated into shouts. Shortly afterwards, she heard what sounded like a scuffle. One thud, followed by another. Rosaline continued to listen with bated breath. A soft click indicated the door to her cell room was unlocked. It opened inward, revealing none other than Steven Weaver. Rosaline couldn't believe her eyes. The druid looked terrible; his skin was pale, his clothes were bloodstained, and his hands trembled with such ferocity that it seemed unlikely that he could keep his hold on the gory dagger clutched in them. He was also leaner than the last time they'd seen each other, which was back at the ice cave in the far north. What is he doing here, of all places? Rosaline wondered. Not that she really cared either way. "Rosaline?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His terrified expression quickly relaxed into one that was more nervous than anything. "Thank Guthix! I thought they had already taken you to the headsman's block... We need to get you out of here, quickly, before they come." He stepped forward and used the keys he'd taken from the sentries to open the cell. As he helped her out of the shackles Rosaline decided now would be a time for answers. "How did you know I was here?" Steven grinned sheepishly. "I've been here for a while actually. As you know, I remained with the rift to study it more after you left with Alorah. Eventually I decided it was time to leave. While I could have stayed there for the rest of my life, I would have accomplished nothing." He spoke with conviction, leading Rosaline to silently ponder what happened to him following their parting. "As I traveled south I heard about what happened between Armadyl and Bandos, so I came back here, hoping to help where I could." "Last night I overheard some of the soldiers saying you were here. Alaric talked everyone into executing you in the morning. He said you killed Sacheverel," Steven stammered."Is that true?" "Whatever Alaric told you was a lie. He's trying to take over the order by framing me." Steven shook his head. "You don't get it, Rosaline. He already has. The whole temple wants you dead. You have to get out of here right now." "I'm not leaving until I see that man dead!" Rosaline snapped, her good arm going for the dagger in Steven's hand. The druid evaded her lunge and retreated. He looked more upset than afraid. "You can't kill him without dying in the process. There's just too many of them, Rosaline. You have to leave," Steven pleaded. When she looked as though she were about to start up again, he interrupted her, clearly frustrated. "I promise you, I'll do everything I can to stop Alaric from getting away with this. But if you die, he wins. So just go." "If I go, he wins," Rosaline retorted. Still, there was truth to his words. She had a fool's chance at killing Alaric and getting out of the temple alive. And besides, she'd already gotten more than lucky by surviving this long. But to just leave... "You're lucky I broke my arm, otherwise I would've taken that dagger and knocked you out before you could say 'Guthix.' I'll go." Relieved, Steven gave her the dagger and a set of keys. "Use those to get outside but be careful. There'll be soldiers everywhere. You know the way. Once you're out, head to the stable. You can take my horse. She's the one with the flaxen mane and brown coat. Get her and go. Don't stop for anything." "I know what I'm doing, Steven." They shared an akward silence between them before she spoke again. "Thanks." "You're welcome. Now get going." "What about the sentries? They saw your face." Steven blanched at this. "I... they're dead. I'll say that you were already gone by the time I found them." Rosaline was impressed. She never took the druid for a killer. "All right, then." She left the cell and headed for the door. Before leaving, she turned and regarded the druid with shrewd eyes. "I was wrong about you, Steven. You're definitely no hero." Rosaline smirked. "Good luck." She then ducked into the hallway and fled the temple as fast as she could. By the time Alaric and his soldiers came for her, Rosaline was long gone, her only witness an unlucky druid who had narrowly lived while two others had perished during her mysterious escape. Category:Blog posts